Cosca
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: Collection. Every family has its secrets. 7. He won't lose Tsuna again, not after facing that bleak future. -Tsuna, Gokudera
1. Solitude

**Title: **Solitude  
**Day/Theme: **Sept. 14, 2009 // live by disillusion glow  
**Series: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Character/Pairing: **Chrome, hints of Mukuro, Chikusa, Ken  
**A/N:** This is placed, at the begining, from when Chrome first came to the future and then set some time after. It's a little short, I think I'll add more to the ending next time. As well, this is the first of my one-shot collection here. I'll update it sporadically.

**Updated:** I have expanded on the whole one-shot into a larger one with the same name as this shot.  
**Summary: ** _It isn't the future that scares her, it's the future without them._

...

...

She chokes on the air, the dust and negligence laced heavily in each breath. Glancing around, she can't imagine what happened here, the cracks and holes on the walls from years of abandonment. Her steps echo in the silent building, asking her questions for her.

Where was Ken? Chikusa?

(Where was Mukuro-sama's voice, a tune that always sang in the back of her mind?)

Her fingers traced the well-worn walls, their history illegible to her. Sometimes she hits a small dent that she remembers Ken making, hits a small toy that Chikusa left behind. Sometimes she catches their trails, the pieces they left behind for her to read, but then she'll loose the scent again.

This is a frozen world, trapped in a time she doesn't know of, and it feels wrong. Not in the least because they are not here.

(She tries to remember ever being this worried about someone before, her heart racing and her breath ragged.)

-x-

Chrome wakes up, feeling her missing lungs gasp and twist as she tries to keep them undercontrol. It's an awkward feeling, her own mind in control of her life for once. Her pulse runs to her tempo, a dance that slows and quickens with each turn her mind takes.

(Is he dead? Are they still alive? Can she go back?)

She misses them, misses the growls in the middle of the night and the sharp tools that dug into her feet with each step. There used to be a howling wind that would spin a new tune for her lullaby each night, a melody that was punctuated by snores and teasing remarks. Sometimes Ken was cruel to her, sometimes Chikusa was too silent, but she was used to their methods, their decisions running her time forward.

Running further and further to new destinations, to new plans, to new decisions.

It's all too much power for her to have to do this alone.

Shifting in her bed, Chrome imagines the bumbling steps in the dark, the shifting of light and shadow as the candles flickered. There is a soft wheeze in a corner and a groan for someon to shut up, it's only two in the morning. Mukuro's voice is plotting something she can't understand in the far reaches of her mind.

And if she feels a calloused hand brush hers or a warm breath pulling her covers up, it's ok.

She doesn't mind living with her illusions.

...

....  
...


	2. Passing Memories

**Title: **Passing memories  
**Day/Theme: **Oct 10 // only violets remain  
**Series:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Character/Pairing: **Tsuna, hint of Tsuna/Kyoko  
**A/N: **I like some parts of it, but overall I think I need to redo this...  
**Summary: **_There is something twisted and odd about this new world, where everything has changed in the blink of an eye._

...

...

This world is frightening, at the least, and confusing at the most. He isn't sure which feeling he likes the least--then again, he has never been sure about what he wants and what he hates. He can't make his mind up on the mafia either, sometimes hating and sometimes enjo--not minding it.

He thinks Reborn knows that already, even when the tutor pushes him and pulls him in each direction until he doesn't know left from right, up from down.

There is a despairing feeling lingering over the city, death and loss draping over people like a well-worn blanket, faded from use. He smells it in their words, a thick scent overlaying each nervous glance and wringing hand.

It isn't right.

Little kids are not supposed to be counting each day on their calenders, waiting to see if they make their next birthday. Mothers are not supposed to be staring worriedly at the sky, at an unseen enemy that they can't keep, for once, their loved ones away from.

He sees the terrified people and something hardens in him. Reborn would say it is his resolve finally coming into action.

Tsuna would rather see it as a protective feeling.

The most confusing part of the city, though, is that nothing is as it should be. The graveyard has tripled since he last seen it, the elephant teeth poking out of the ground with tears and pain carved on each one. Streets filled with laughter and should-be-illegal fights are now phantoms mascarading as pathways, connectors between people and places.

His mom is a stranger, a women with a kindly face and a past that is all her own. He isn't sure he wants to know the route that brought her to this place, brought them all to this time.

When he passes by his (no longer) home, he catches a peek of purple, the shy shoots of spring. It almost makes him laugh, those delicate plants he once wanted to give to _her_.

Of all the things that changed, of all the things that had to remain the same, only those flowers remained.

And so did the feelings behind them.

...

...


	3. The Next Hurdle

**Title: **the next hurdle  
**Day/Theme: **Jan 1 // he whose body is crazy and feeble  
**Character/Pairing: **Ryohei  
**A/N: **I just realized that Ryohei's name can be split up into two of my favourite character's names--Ryo and Hei. Wait, wait, cancel that. I don't think I know a Ryo...  
Other than that, not ridiculously proud of the ending. I need to revise it.  
**Summary: ** _There will always be one more hurdle to jump._

...

....  
He runs ten, twenty, thirty—numbers mean nothing anymore—laps every morning and and night. There is only the sound of his feet (tap, tap, tapping) and the air he's pushing against. He always seems to be pushing against something. His running shoes thud on the ground and his breath comes out in sharp pants as Ryohei finishes his (78? 92? 105?) lap.

He's stronger, that much he knows. Each day his legs run further and further (from what, he doesn't know. _To where_ is an even bigger question.) and he doesn't gasp as much as he used to. Not that he was weak in the beginning.

(Oh, but he was, in the way a child is weak to an adult—all that strength gained is nothing when compared to the next hurdle.)

And now....Ryohei's armor. The impenetrable shield, the unbreakable sword. His punch is like the earth, strong and unshakeable. None can defeat him—in competitions his rivals fall one after another, a stack of dominoes with no end.

He is intimidating. He is strong. He is invincible.

He is still that child, only capable of beating his peers and shattering when faced with an adult. He doesn't always realize, doesn't want to even acknowledge it, but the signs are obvious.

Ryohei finds out just how weak he is when the black and blue flowers bloom on his skin, his sister's worried eyes and gentle hands carefully bandaging his wounds.

(And then he crushes the petals as he tries once again to leap over that hurdle.)

...

...  
...


	4. Right of Passage

**Title:** Right of Passage  
**Day / Theme:** January 4th // a noise in the schools  
**Character / Pairing:** Tsuna's mom, Tsuna, mentions of the gang  
**A/N:** Not fully what I expected, but I think it turned out ok.  
**Summary: **_There is something different about him (them). She can't put a finger on it, but she knows it all the same and it scares her._

...

...

When he comes back (when they all come back), something is different. She doesn't notice it at night (caught between the hugs and kisses and _never go out of my sight again_s) but the next morning she does. Tsuna walks a little straighter when he leaves, his steps slightly louder. There is nothing shy or scared or hesitant about that and when he waves goodbye, he doesn't look back at her with a nervous grin on his face.

She watches him walk down the street, not turning back once, and something in her aches.

-x-

She gets a call later from the guidance counselor--a pretentious man who doesn't get to the point till the end.

"Anything wrong with your son lately? Any problems? You can tell me--I've heard them all."

"No-none," she stutters, a little nervous. Her son hasn't been called about before.

Maybe he was planning something that morning.

"Any hearing problems? Any deaths? Any gangs?"

"Eh? No! What...what did he do?" She's almost afraid to hear.

"Before we get to that, a few more questions. Have you had a new boyfriend? Divorced your husband?"

This goes on for about twenty minutes before he finally tells her what happened. She doesn't think it was worth all those questions.

"He and a few other classmates have been jumping at every loud bang they hear."

"Oh."

And she almost recalls her husband those first few days. Almost but refuses because Tsuna is her never-do-well-son, her baby boy who is too afraid to do anything new.

-x-

It reaches a point where she thinks that maybe he isn't her son. His eyes are confident, proud, and they stare her straight on when he talks. He still has some of his old habits--still cries when Reborn teaches him, still gets dragged unwillingly away when his friends come to get him.

Only, he doesn't protest as much as he used to. It looks like he's doing it for pretenses, for old time's sake.

She doesn't know what to do with _any_ of them anymore. Her son isn't the only one who changed--his friends have too. Some are more cocky, swaggering around as though they are victors in some long-fought battle. Some are braver, stronger, humbler--she can't deny the physical changes too. The muscle that now sits on their bodies and the lean feel of Tsuna's arm in her hand.

It's almost as though they haven't eaten a proper meal in days.

It scares her. Maybe this is like a sci-fi movie, _The Body Snatchers_, only it's her son and his friends.

"Mom?"

Jolting out of her thoughts, she looks to see her son staring at her.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," she croaks out, not sure if she should confront him. Maybe this is a phase. Maybe this is a dream. She doesn't know what to do--nothing feels right or safe.

She wishes her husband was here to help.

"Good." He gives her a smile that's pure Tsuna and she blinks for a moment.  
"Yeah," she whispers for a moment.

Then again, she thinks to herself, maybe her little boy has finally grown up.

...

...  
...


	5. Simplicity

Title: Simplicity  
Day/Theme: May 18 // In the night sky  
Character/Pairing: Yamamoto  
A/N: I kind of like this (I've been reading Ondaatje again, thus the style). Only...I wish I had a better way to transition from 'doubt' to 'assurance'.  
Summary: _He fears this dependence, this unfailing trust, on them._

...

...

Yamamoto stares at the stars, the glowing balls shining overhead. If he had a bat long enough, he'd hit them all out of there, clear the midnight cloth, knock the moon out of the stadium.

As it is, there is barely enough light to see as he stands in the empty field, the metal fences glinting around him. Scuffing the ground--he knows this dirt, this sand well, the smell of it cloaking him like a second skin, the feel of it imprinted in his mind. It belongs to him, in the same way he belongs to it, and this is his home. He scrapes it with his shoe, the sound just one of a million he has heard before, and lets the cool breeze rake his hair before he starts.

Stance is important, his father told him. It gives him strength, balance, the ability to dodge and survive. (And yet, when his father told him that, he almost yawned--in baseball stance is everything. This is a lesson he has learned well.)

Feet slightly apart, knees bent, fingers gripping the hilt. The sword is in front of him, a separate entity, and--

This feels wrong. The long blade, the cool metal, the sharp edge, all of it feels distinct and alien. Like a foreign body. It's supposed to be an extension of him, his arms reaching out further than before, hitting things they normally can't. It's supposed swing and sway with him, a part of his soul. It's supposed to be like his bat.

He tries again, moving slowly as he turns first right, then left.

It doesn't work.

(And of course it doesn't, because then it will become him, another Yamamoto floating in the world, adrift. It will hurt him if it fails, like that moment when baseball was _everything_. It became the air he greedily drank, the blood running through his veins, the colour of his world.

It was everything that meant anything and then--

And then came Tsuna and Reborn and Gokudera and the rest of the family.

The fear grows once more, because they are slowly filling in the bases of his mind, covering every position just as surely as baseball did. A dependence is growing and maybe one day he won't be able to survive without them, a craving growing steadily as the days flash by.

This fear, this monster that paces within his chest, it screams at that, because maybe one day he might die for them, die with them, lose track of all the other things that make his world.

Maybe one day he will cease to be Yamamoto and just _be_.)

The clouds cover the moon now, grey quilts blocking the light, and he can't see. It's easier that way, the shadows play tricks on him, scurrying about like mice. The sword flashes, slicing them, without another thought.

Without a thought, just a response, just an unconscious decision.

He smiles at that. It's simple when he puts it like that. Who is he, if not one who sees the simplicity of a situation?

The moon shines once more and he returns to the stance.

Simple, no need to over complicate anything. He doesn't know what he's doing, but then again, none of them do. If he's going to wander anyways, company is bettter than flying solo.

He dances, fluidly, and pierces his doubts.

(Yamamoto stands at the edge once more, staring down from the roof. His eyes wide open, he steps off.

He trusts they'll catch his fall.)

...

...

...

...


	6. Comrades

**Title:** Comrades

**For:** demoerin

**Prompt:** "Contrary to general belief, I do not believe that friends are necessarily the people you like best; they are merely the people who got there first." -Peter Ustinov

**Character/Pairing:** Tsuna, Gokudera

**A/N:** I didn't quite like this one as much, because even though the general idea got out...I just don't like the presentation...

**Summary:** _Friendship isn't something he's used to, this camaraderie that Gokudera offers every time they meet. _

...

...

...

...

"So, who's left?"

"Tsuna is."

"What? No good Tsuna? He's useless!"

It starts again-the bruising jokes, the cutting insults, the condescending words. They come at him from all sides, classmates looking at him in irritation as they make a decision. No, not a decision. More like as though they are taking a punishment.

_Why is he taking up so much space?_ they almost seem to ask. All he can do is laugh it off, this loneliness that rolls to him in waves. It suffocates him, at times, the mocking tone drowning him. Why is he always the worst? Why is he always last?

(Sometimes, he stares at his blank page, at the numbers and words that float in front of his mind. Nothing on it makes sense, nothing clicks, and maybe his future is like that. Blank. Worthless. What's the point of his existence?

Even this paper has more value than him.)

"Tenth! Join my team!" Gokudera suddenly yells, glaring at the captain when he tries to make a protest. At the sound of the rest of the team protesting, he reaches in his pockets, pulling out rows upon rows of dynamite. The cigarette in his mouth starts to dangle dangerously.

Not again, Tsuna thinks, cringing as he images what will happen next. An explosion of some sort will happen, maybe something dangerous, and he'll be blamed for it.

Gokudera is dangerous. He is wild and uncontrollable and unfortunately all of this energy is aligned to protecting Tsuna from any harm, imaginary or real. He has no idea of limits, of social customs, and Tsuna has no way to break this attachment between them.

"No, you shouldn't-"

It's too late by that point. The cigarette falls out of his mouth, brushing the waiting wicks, and the school grounds go off in balls of flame. Half the class flies in one direction, gravel and brick exploding into the air after them, and the other half seeks shelter.

He really should try to get rid of this guy. Maybe if he pretends he isn't-and Gokudera approaches him, almost bouncing, his point clearly made.

"I'm glad we're on the same team," he says, grinning brightly as he slings an arm around Tsuna's shoulder. His smile is infectious and honest, his eyes genuine, and there are no lies with this boy.

He's actually happy about this. Possibly the only person who's happy to see Tsuna in the morning, happy to greet him and walk with him and listen to him. If not the only (not anymore, not since Reborn decided to expand the family), then he was the first.

(And it's for that, for this joy that radiates of Gokudera like rays of light, that Tsuna doesn't shrug the arm off.)

...

...

...

...


	7. Failings

**Title:** Failings

**For:** demoerin

**Prompt:** "Contrary to general belief, I do not believe that friends are necessarily the people you like best; they are merely the people who got there first." -Peter Ustinov

**Pairing/Character:** Gokudera, Tsuna

**A/N:** One thing I never got-If Tsuna supposedly died in the future, then how did his future self make a cameo at the end?

And, ending...is bad. And this whole thing is rather short. *sigh*

**Summary:** _He won't lose Tsuna again, not after facing that bleak future. _

...

...

...

...

It's suffocating. He feels it every time he closes his eyes, black walls engulfing him, wooden bars that his fists are useless against.

Only, Gokudera isn't in it. No, it's (amazing, strong, brave) Tsuna, his boss, his friend (though he doesn't dare to say that).

The person he failed to save.

And this might be the future, the future they are changing, but it doesn't change this feeling all the same. He promised, promised with every fibre of his being, with every thought in his mind, that he would protect Tsuna.

There were nights where he spent tinkering in his room, putting different quantities of powder together, adding random pieces of technology here and there. Explosions were frequent, charring his face a coal black (like the coffin, like death, like the loss-), weapons failing to do what he designed. Books lay scattered on his bed, open to formulas and equations, text jumping to his eye when he looked for references.

Somehow, he managed to make something.

That something wasn't enough.

Tsuna looks back at him, smiling, eternal, present. He's at his front door, staring at the street as though he's surprised to see it's still there. The shockingly clear, blue sky; the lazy pace of strangers; the soft rustle of leaves-it amazes everyone at times, remembering how it used to be (will be?) in the future.

"We're late..." Tsuna sighs when Gokudera catches up, but there is a happy lit to that complaint.

He's so bright, sometimes. When Tsuna tells him he's important, he half wants to yell at him to take it back, he doesn't deserve it, not then, not anymore.

Instead, Gokudera clenches his fist. He might never gain the right to accept this gift Tsuna is giving him, this title of ally and protector. He might never be the right-hand.

However, he will make sure these warm hands never turn cold again.

(He will keep hearing that beautiful word, _friend_.)

...

...

...

...


End file.
